The End of Hope?
by Magdalenara
Summary: After her parents have been killed, Hermione seeks refuge in the Burrow. Can they help her in finding a new hope? This is set probably at the beginning of Book 7, but may end up with AU. It's pretty angsty, but with lovely R/Hr moments, Rating may change.
1. Chapter 1

**In this first Chapter, Hermione makes her way to the Burrow. **

**Several Snatchers followed her, trying to bring her down, while the Weasleys storm outside their house to come to her rescue.**

**Rating: T **

**The End of Hope?**

**1. The Battle at the Burrow**

"Pass, me the bowl, please-

George, STOP APPARATING!" Molly Weasley shouted in a tone she always used to scold one of her twin sons or- and in fact this is a more likely option- both at the same time. Strangely enough, her pressed and nerved tone had something confusingly calming. It gave all of them, the full Weasley Clan (except for Percy, the treacherous Partridge of course) gathered around the dinner table, the illusion as if everything was still all right, just as it always had been. It gave them the illusion of still being safe. No Death Eaters concerned them at that evening, no dawning darkness at the edge of horizon fogged their hopes. They clung to that last bit of piece in the warmth and comfort of being together. Possibly for the last time before the storm would break loose, or even for the last time at all.

Ginny was the first one to hear it, she'd always been the most attentive one in the family, never missing even the quietest sound in the whole house.

"Did your hear that?" she asked while her head flung to the side, into the direction where she had heard the noise coming from. Immediately all chats and funny bickering stopped, tension replaced the typical warm atmosphere of the Weasley family and although no one dared to notice it, everyone drew his wand. Silence covered the dinner table and not even one dared to breathe while they waited for an all clear signal or the final call to fight. One minute passed in that unfamiliar tranquillity, nothing, then another one and they all believed the weight of that deafening silence would break their stressed nerves. They were just about to withdraw their wands when they all heard it.

"STUPEFY!", the shouted curse was followed by a blueish lighting strike and by the disturbing noise of magical force hitting flesh so hard it left more than just bruises. In the glimpse of a second, all of them jumped up and stormed out of the house, their wands ready to fight. Arthur and Molly Weasley pushed themselves past their children, always attempting to keep them away from the action. The darkness of that night had thickened itself with an unusual, almost unnatural fog coming from the little pools around their plot of land. However, although they could hardly see anything, they would have always recognised that voice.

"HERMIONE!" Ron screamed and was about to storm right towards her, his wand drawn to be used, when his father caught him around the waist, desperately trying to hold him back. It took him several minutes to leave his single-focused tunnel vision he always got when anything concerned Hermione and to notice the various other members in this mercilessly real battle waltz.

Five Snatcher, maybe even real Death Eaters (although the difference wouldn't mean they happened to have more or less mercy for any of them), chased Hermione Granger, the bushy haired witch who fought her way towards the Burrow. She ducked and dodged several times, trying to escape the curses her opponents shot at her. In return, she flipped around from time to time disarming, distracting or even wounding her persecutors.

"CONFRINGO!" her usually tender voice shouted as she aimed at the Snatcher closest to her and all of the sudden an explosion took place that hurled him away for an awful lot of miles. However, she had no time to rejoice over her little triumph, because her other followers caught up all too soon to her. Again she turned around, attempting to throw a _Freezing Charm_ back at them, but she had to throw herself on the dirty ground instead in order to prevent to get hit by a _Severing Charm_.

This was the tipping point of the events. With a furious growl, Ron and his family left the Burrow behind and stormed right into the battle.

Ron was the first one to reach Hermione and he lifted his arm with the wand in his hand just in the right moment to block the next curse from harming her. The force of the curse was blocked, yet he felt the aftermaths of those spoken words of dark magic and staggered a few feet backwards, before attacking again. Hermione beside him barely seemed to notice his arrival, she lurched forward without orientation, yet she lifted her wand and parried every curse shot back at her.

"CRUCIO!", the curse hit Ron straight into his chest and with a broken, eardrum shredding scream he fell to the ground, writhing in a pain he'd never felt before. His whole body felt like it was on fire, every inch of his flesh seemed to be saturated with little flames, each one containing millions of sharp needles, mercilessly penetrating his skin. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. His eye apples turned inwards and his world went black. Somewhere in the distance, he heard someone scream in agony and desperation, but his mind was already far too gone to notice that it had been his mother's cry.

Then, from one moment to another, the pain was gone, disappeared as quickly as it had come. Still numb and slightly weak he opened his eyes and was confronted with an image that was determined to burn itself into his very soul. Hermione stood only a few feet away from him, but in that moment she appeared to be a thousand miles away. Her hand swung her wand over her head, almost like a lash and bright grey lightning strikes burst out of the thin, powerful wooden stick. The Snatchers and Death Eaters immediately jumped away from her, actually _fearing_ this _Mudblood_'s magic.

Hermione was covered in blood (and Ron wasn't entirely sure how much of it definitely belonged to her), she had several cuts and bruises and she swayed under the power of the curses and hexes thrown at her- and yet she didn't didn't give in, she didn't give up. And then, he understood. She was protecting _him_. The very reason she still stood and didn't give up was because she was determined to protect him from any harm. That gave her the strength to hold out.

Ron was torn out of his thoughts when one of the Snatchers lurched forward and directed his wand with a sneaky grimace at Hermione who had her back turned at him. She didn't see him coming.

"AVADA KEDAVRA !", the darkest of all curses echoed through the night and yet missed his final target. She hadn't seen it coming, but she definitely had it heard coming. Hermione dodged as her ears caught the shout and then flipped around to face her last opponent. She aimed her wand at him with a movement as graceful and merciless alike, she looked into his dirty eyes with the clear determination written all over her face.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" she whispered almost inaudible and Ron watched as the Snatcher froze in his movements, a bewildering expression of shock and fear and pain on his face, before he fell to the ground. _Dead_. Then, she finally let her wand sink down, swaying in the quiet wind of that night for a few moments, before she finally collapsed and her lifeless body fell to the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

**2. The breathtaking after the battle**

Ron could hardly process what had just happened right in front of his eyes. In the one moment she had cringed before she could have been hit by the _Cruciatus_ and then in the next moment he had heard her whisper those words herself. _The Killing Curse_. She had killed someone. She had done it for him. She had saved him. And the he saw her fall, _fall_...

It was this last thought that tore him out of his wild doubts and his shock. Instantly, he tried to lurch forward, but his body was still too weak to walk and he fell back to the ground. He ignored the pain in his knees that followed and began to crawl towards her, never noticing the battle around him that still continued. When he finally reached her body, he was shocked by the coldness of her skin, the limpness of her limbs. _Was she dead? _That question made his guts contradict in a cold pain, but it was nothing compared to the sharp pain tearing through his heart.

"'Mione..." he whispered with a voice, sounding as broken as it had never been before. He hardly noticed the tears that burnt on his cheeks, blurring his vision. His large, dirty hands cupped her face, caressing her porcelain skin, praying that his touch would bring her back. But her body didn't respond to him. She remained lifeless.

"Ronald!", he barely heard the scream, he whimpered in his own pain, not realising what happened around him. He didn't notice the outcome of the battle, didn't see that his family defeated the Snatchers or that they ran to him. He only realised that his whole family surrounded him when his mother appeared on the ground next to him and pushed his shivering hands away. She placed her hands on Hermiones face, softly, carefully. Her fingers twitching to the girl's throat, searching for any sign of life.

"Is she...dead...?".

"NO! She is not! She can't be!" Ron snapped back at his younger sister's terrified whisper, but somewhere in the back of his head he didn't even believe his own passionate words. Petrified by the situation and his own ignorance he turned to his mother with a heart-wrenching plea in his usually bright blue eyes.

"Mum..." he begged her, begging her for any hint of good news, but Molly didn't answer him. She simply put her right hand on the girl's forehand, the other one over Hermiones heart, before she started to whisper something in a voice too quiet and too rushed as if anyone could have understood what she said. The seconds passed them in silence and an almost infinite atmosphere of fear and horror, before the light came back to them.

Hermione came back to life under the hand of the elderly witch, she took a deep, rattling breath, desperately choking for air. Her deep brown eyes, now filled with an unusual expression of sheer panic, opened only for a glimpse of a second before she started to cry and to stutter in a pace, almost too quick to follow.

"Mum...Dad...please..._please_..." she whimpered again and again through agonised sobs and burning tears, possibly not even aware of where she was and what had just happened. Although Ron felt deeply terrified by her condition, he was yet glad that she was at least still alive. She was still Hermione. When his mother demanded to get her inside, Ron was already trying to pick her up into his arms, he started to walk a few feet, but his still weak legs swayed under her weight and her continuous desperate panic.

"I'll take her son." Arthur Weasley insisted when he noticed his son's struggling.

"No, _I_ will carry her." The glance he shot back at his father, filled with a desperate determination, was final enough and so it was him who carried her gently into the house. He followed his mother's instructions and brought her into the living room, carefully placing her onto the sofa. Again, his mother pushed her way past him, marking this as the first time in all their lives that Molly Weasley cared more about someone else than her own family.

She examined the girl's body more carefully now, she noticed how weak and lifeless she felt under her touch, thick dark shadows were under her eyes and her breathing was still shallow and weak. A lightly blueish bruise covered the spot over her heart and within that instant Molly Weasley knew that the young witch had been hexed and the dark magic still coursed within her weak body.

She turned around to her husband and was about to say something when, from one moment to another, the Burrow was filled with an eardrum shredding scream that left them all in a heavy shivering panic. Hermione struggled on the sofa, she twitched helplessly and cried, blinded by her own tears and fears. Again she sobbed her parent's names, voicing her pleas with a tone she'd never had before in her usual strong, determined voice.

"Arthur..." said his wife and in a glimpse of a second, after exchanging a secret look with her, Arthur Weasley vanished into thin air, disapparating to the Grangers' House. Mrs. Weasley looked around for a moment, undecided, as if she needed her whole willpower for the next things to do.

"All of you, get out. NOW!" she snapped at her children who were for a moment too shocked at this unfamiliar tone, before they rushed to leave the room. Ron took a last look at Hermione, before he attempted to follow his siblings out of the room.

"No. Not you, Ron, come here..." she said with a voice so weak it scared him more than anything else he'd seen and experienced in this night. Slowly, he followed her command and positioned himself at her side. He was almost too afraid to even touch Hermione. She looked pale and weak, as if she could shatter caused by every too rough touch.

"She's been cursed. I need you to hold her down so I can work properly without causing further damage." Molly Weasley said quietly, as if she was only speaking to herself. However when she realised that her son barely listened to her, her head flung up and she grabbed him by the shoulders. "Now look at me, this is going to be painful for her and she'll try to fight you. Can you bear that? Can you take that, Ronald?".

He nodded dully, still petrified by the stern, emotionless look of his mother. He would do what he had to. Whatever would save her life. Ron strictly avoided his mother's eyes, he didn't want to see the helplessness in them, or the recognition that it was pointless to hope. He leant over Hermione and kept a firm grasp on her shivering upper body. He didn't need any signal by his mother to know that she had started the procedure. Immediately Hermione started to scream and kick around, struggling against him with all her force, but his hands held her mercilessly down. He could feel the battle that continued within her body, he could literally feel her pain almost as his own, but he didn't loosened his grip on her. His will only wavered when she started to sob his name, she begged him with a voice that made him feel sick, she begged him to stop, begged him to _kill_ her.

Ron took his eyes off of her, he couldn't look into her eyes, the pure terror he saw in them tore his heart to bits, even more because he knew that he was causing her this pain- and his mother. For the first time in his life, Ron couldn't look at his mother, he felt something he'd never felt before for her. _He hated her_. He shivered even by the very thought of this feeling. He knew it was nonsense, she wasn't doing this on purpose, he knew his mother saved her life. Yet he couldn't look at her when she caused her so much pain.

Finally, with a last rebellious convulsion, her body fell onto the sofa again. All three of them breathed heavily, they were covered with cold sweat and felt a great fatigue, but they had won the battle. Hermione, still looking pale and weak, clung to him desperately, she shivered heavily, whimpering in the echo of that pain. Ron held her flush against his chest, not even daring to let go of her for even one second. He whispered calming words and phrases into her ear, trying to console her, before he looked up to his mother who appeared just as tired as Hermione herself.

"Don't ever ask that of me again, Mum, okay?".


	3. Chapter 3

**3. And there are more Nightmares to come...**

Almost an hour had passed since Hermione had apparated to the Burrow, since the battle had been fought and since his father had disaparated to the Granger's House. Yet she still clung to him desperately, although she finally had found comfort in some sort of deep sleep. Ron looked up to his mother who just re-entered the living room with two cups of tea in her hands. One of them she passed to her son, he took it awkwardly with his left hand instead of his usual right one; he still refused to leave her side or even peel himself out of her desperate, unconscious embrace.

"What happened to her? I mean...what Curse had hit her to cause such an effect?" he asked quietly, after he'd cleared his throat several times. His mother sighed heavily and took a sip of her Black tea, before she answered her son's question.

"The Killing Curse. _Avada Kedavra_." she spoke with a reverent voice, as if speaking the name alone scared her. Ron looked up when he heard her words and one look into her eyes confirmed that she indeed feared it.

"But she hadn't been hit by it...She...".

"_She_ cast it. I know." she finished her son's sentence and his confused glance met her pitiful look.

"You must know, Ron, the _Unforgivable Curses_ do not merely possess their name because they do unbearable things to the person they hit. They also destroy the one who casts them. They destroy something within that person.", she paused in her talking and took another sip of her tea, her hands shivered barely noticeable and she looked as if it was too hard for her to talk about this topic.

"One person does not only consist of flesh, and blood, veins and muscles. We have a soul, or however you wanna call it. Casting an _Unforgivable Curse_ destroys that piece of yourself, it soils it with dark magic itself, until it's completely consumed by it and nothing else but lower feeling are left. The magic of the Death Eaters comes from those lower feelings, they feed on it, the hate, and rage, the greed, the will...the _desire_ to cause pain and death. That's why it is so easy for them to use such Curses, because nothing else is left within them that could be consumed or destroyed. Nothing good is left to be soiled and shattered.", here she made another pause, taking a deep breath to calm herself, before she resumed her narration.

"But if someone else casts those spells...

If you're too young, if you're not familiar with yielding such dark magic...or if you're not absolutely determined to do it, not because you have to, but because you _want_ to cause pain and death...then it may hurt even the person who casts the Curse.".

Ron swallowed hard upon this realisation, his glance fell back to Hermione whose arms were still wrapped around his waist, too desperate, too afraid to ever let go of him. He'd never cared much about the effects of the _Unforgivable Curses_, except, of course, for the immediate effects they had on their victim. Knowing how it could have harmed (and indeed it did) her made him feel sick. What effects would using such dark magic, even just once, have on her soul, on her being, on her very personality? How would that change her?

Ron was torn out of his thoughts when he heard the familiar '_Flop_' of someone apparating into their home and his presumption was confirmed when his mother jumped up and rushed to the kitchen. His heartbeat quickened in response, when he heard his father's voice speaking in a pressed, devastated tone. He peeled himself carefully out of her arms (which was not such an easy task after all, either because she didn't want to let him go or because he didn't really wanted to leave her) and followed his mother into the kitchen. The rest of his family clan had joined them, too. He realised now that they had disobeyed their mother's order (once again) and had hid themselves in the darkness of the kitchen. He couldn't bring himself to judge them. He would've done the same thing.

"What happened?" he asked when he finally met his father's glance who had avoided his youngest son's look since he'd arrived. Arthur Weasleys usually strong and determined mask he always wore for his family fell apart, he swayed under the pressure of the coming words and needed to sit down on a chair. Again he turned away from the question in Ron's eyes and finally started to talk.

"There is not much to tell, son. Such tragedies never needed much words.

When I arrived, the _Dark Mark_ was still flaming over the house. I could hardly bring myself to enter, so many memories came back..." Molly Weasley automatically stepped behind her husband when his voice failed him, without any words needed she tenderly placed one hand on his shoulder.

"There was nothing I could have done. They were already dead. Apparently they were hit by the _Killing Curse_, but, the Death Eaters..._they_ took their time...", at those last words his voice failed him again and they all shivered heavily while the meaning of those words burnt themselves into their minds. Ron threw a look back at Hermione who slept restlessly on the sofa and for the first time he recognised the fragility of her shape, the vulnerability of her whole appearance. He barely listened to his father any longer who explained that the Ministry's Aurors had taken care of it, they searched for the murderers and would take care of the funeral. They even took care of inventing a Muggle-version of the events, which would probably speak of the death of the _whole_ family.

"I should prepare her bed, she can sleep in the spare room.".

"No, she can have my room, I'll sleep on the floor!" Ron suddenly contradicted (after the words of his mother had torn him out of his blurry thoughts), much to the bewilderment of his mother and the slightly inappropriate amusement of his whole family. He felt himself blush at his own emotional outburst, but did nothing to take his words back.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ronald Weasley." his mother scolded once again, "You might as well sleep in your own bed. There is enough place in your room to get another bed in it.".

Ron slept restlessly in his own bed, he threw himself from one side to the other and every time he woke up his look fell upon Hermione who slept in the bed at the opposite end of his room. It felt as if he needed to make sure that she was all right, that she was here, that she was safe. He'd watched her sleep until the great fatigue had finally conquered him, too.

His dreams were wild and dark, blurry images of people stormed through his mind's eye, there was a lot of red and black, the disturbing green flash of the _Dark Mark_ which left him whimper in his unconsciousness. However, even clearer than the devastating images were the screams he heard in his imaginations, desperate cries for help, for mercy, the cold and brutal laughs that accompanied those screams and above all else he could hear himself scream. He saw himself run towards her lifeless body, pulling at her, screaming at her, begging her to open her eyes again...but this time she didn't come back...

Ron believed to have woken up with a scream, his eyes were widened in pure terror, his heartbeat racing in response to the terrifying images and sounds he'd experienced only seconds ago. Some noises in the dark had startled him and made him wake up, and now that his eyes accustomed to the sparse light of the moon, that shined through his only window, he knew the reason for these noises.

Hermione stood right in front of his bed, her fragile, feminine shape almost drowning into of his huge, bulky Shirts while her deep brown eyes burnt quietly in the dark silence of his room. He swallowed hard while he looked at her, trying not to look _down_ at her, knowing that his Shirt definitely didn't cover her remarkably long legs.

"Hermione? What's wrong? Are you in pain? Can you not sleep?" he finally asked, his confusion now mixed with the concern for her, and the need to know why she wasn't sleeping. Hermione, however didn't answer his question with her usual silencing eloquence. She simply lifted his blanket and crawled quietly into his bed, before she cuddled herself against him and wrapped her arms around his waist, placing her head on his chest.

All of this happened so fast he could hardly process it properly, but the new warm figure that was now pressed against his chest showed him that it was real. This was really happening. Hermione Jean Granger was in the same bed with him. _Together with him_. And she clung to him, like really seeking to be close to him. Only a few hours ago, such a situation would have appeared (to say the least) impossible, but right now he didn't think about what had been. He simply wrapped his arms around her vulnerable shape, pressing her tightly against his chest as if he wanted to protect her from the world itself.

That's how they fell asleep, together, and that's how Molly Weasley found them the next morning. She had come up to invite the two of them for breakfast, but after she'd opened the door she rejected her initial idea and simply stared at them, fascinated and moved by the image that was offered to her: Hermione was curled up in a tiny, little ball while her back was pressed against Ron's chest who covered her body with his right arm in the most protective and tender way.


	4. Chapter 4

**In this chapter we finally get to know what really happened at the Granger's house. **

**It's only a very short chapter, down sue me! Originally I'd wanted to do this chapter a little bit more dramatic, but couldn't bring myself to do it...my Hermione had gone through too much already, right?**

**Rating K+**

**4. Of Magic that hurts**

Silence determined the usual lively and laughing Weasley Clan at this early morning in late Spring

while they gathered around the breakfast table. No laughs could be heard, no bickering comments of the youngsters, no twins who teased their mother with apparating right behind her to startle her.

No, it was dead silent. All of them stared down at their plates, eating quietly as if any too loud smack or slurp would evoke a far greater darkness than what they'd already experienced last night.

Ron was the only one who plucked up the courage to look up when his mother placed a silent and reserved Hermione on the chair right next to him. Her gaze was dull and without any life, she looked straight into thin air. Probably she didn't even realise where she was and why she sat here at the table.

He wanted to take her hand and give her a gentle squeeze, but then he reflected a better and dropped the idea. He looked around the table, observing how his siblings exchanged nervous and suggestive looks, even daring to throw a look back at her, from time to time. His mother alone didn't act like a zombie-like figure too afraid to address the silent girl next to him. However, when Hermione didn't even respond to her questions about what she wanted to eat, even Molly Weasley gave up and returned to her place at the top of the table.

"They..." someone started and all of them startled, it took them more than just one moment to realise that it had been Hermione who'd spoken with such a broken, shivering, thin voice. All of the sudden all eyes at the table went to her and they waited in an uncomfortably long and awkward silence until the girl resumed her talking. However, as soon as she started speaking again they all wished she hadn't started in the first place.

"They tortured me. With the _Cruciatus_..." she sobbed, hardly able to control her voice and Ron's eyes fluttered shut while a hot, red wave of anger rushed through his veins.

"They said...they said if I don't scream they wouldn't kill my parents...", she whimpered quietly and he felt her starting to shiver. He wanted to take her into his arm's embrace, calming her, comforting her, but he found himself unable to do it. His own arms hang limp at his side while his hands were clenched into fists, rage stormed through his thoughts while his nails bored themselves into his palms, definitely more than just scratching skin. He had to force himself to listen to her again, but it was difficult, her voice shook heavily by the force of her own desperate tears and one could hardly understand her words. But they did. They all heard them.

"But I _couldn't_...I just couldn't _stop_ screaming...and they _killed_ them...", her voice failed her and she cried out quietly, her whole, once glorious and brave figure, now a mere shaking mess. She let her head fall into her hands, covering her eyes and her shameful tears as her sobs increased. Unsure of what to do, the Weasleys let her grieve, offering her this moment of collapsing into tears and sobs. However, soon her fingers went into her hair, tearing strands out of the beautiful brown hair. Ron's hands came up, trying to grasp her little fingers and to make an end to her hysterical panic attack, but she only pushed his hands off of her.

"_I_ killed them...just...just as if had slid their throats with my own hands..." she screamed in agony, leaving a dreadful quiet around the table where no one even dared to breathe. She fell back into sobs and tears, shivering like the last leave at a dying tree. Ron lifted his hand again and tried to calm her down and again she pushed his hand away. Then she looked up, finally meeting the eyes of the family and each one of them had to catch his breath, breaking the eye contact. They couldn't take what they saw in her eyes. She couldn't even take it herself.

Hermione pushed herself up and left the kitchen in long, hurried steps, she couldn't breathe, she needed air, she had to get out of here. She pushed the front door of the Burrow open and ran outside, for one moment the fresh air shocked her and she swayed a little, before it filled her lungs.

Now that she had said, that she finally had told the truth she could breathe easier again. The tears that ran down cheeks didn't burn like judging flames any longer, it felt deliberating to simply be able to cry. To be able to grieve.

She heard steps behind her, but couldn't pluck up the courage to turn around. She didn't need to turn around anyway. She already knew who had come after her. Ron's calloused hand touched her shoulder and at first she startled, unwilling to give in. However, she knew this was no longer her decision to make. When he felt her resistance melt away he slowly turned her around and pulled her into his embrace. It took her only one glimpse of a moment before she eventually relaxed within his arms. She pressed her face against his chest, near the spot of his heart and finally let the tears flow.


	5. Chapter 5

**In this chapter we learn how Hermione's grief even influences her own magic. Can Ron help her to overcome her own insecurities and finally help her to do magic again?**

**Hm...not really happy with this chapter...feels like something is missing...but, it's up to you to judge!**

**5. Of Magic that fails**

Ron stood on the treshold of the Burrow's frontdoor and watched her. Hermione stood only a few metres away from him, her face turned towards the slowly sinking ball of sun so that the back of her body was darkened by the sunny shades. Thus he couldn't see her face, however he didn't need to see her face to know that her eyes brows were frowned in that typical manner she always got when she didn't understand or couldn't accomplish something. Given the fact that this happened not quite often made the incident only worse.

Again she lifted her wand, the words left her mouth in a shy, insecure whisper and again only little sparks resulted from her spell. Discouraged she lowered her hand with the wand, her fingers desperately clinging to the thin wooden stick until her knuckles turned white. He could hear her taking a deep breath and again she lifted her wand, but he knew she would fail all over again.

Almost a week had passed since that fateful night she had fled to the Burrow and although she behaved like a _normal-living-breathing human being_ again they all faced a new tragic problem, now, that left them without any idea to help her.

_Hermione couldn't do any magic any longer_.

Ron had been the first one to notice it. He'd come upstairs after the dinner one evening and had found her standing in the middle of his room. She shivered heavily in her thin nightgown, her lips almost purple because of the cold, and the wand still in her shaking little fingers. After he'd pulled her into his arms, she had cried out that she hadn't been able to make a fire in the fireplace. She hadn't been able to do magic. She had _lost_ it.

Ron shivered heavily when he thought about her words and remembered the talk he'd had with his mother about her. As usual he'd come to her and hoped for her help, her maternal advise. But even his mother couldn't have helped him this time.

_..."She hasn't lost her powers, right? One can't lose his powers, right? Mum?", Ron felt uneasy when he saw how his mother avoided his glance._

"_Of course it is impossible. A witch or wizard is born with these powers, they can't _lose_ it.", she took a deep breath, before she continued, "However, our powers are affected by our emotions. Strong or disturbing experiences can change the powers that we possess, sometimes even permanently."._

"_Are you saying...are you saying she has lost her powers..._for good_?". His mother looked at him, she hadn't missed the way his voice broke at the last words. _

"_It depends on her." she said quietly and upon the questioning look of her son she added, "It's difficult to explain. Her own grief and her feelings of guilt block her powers. She doesn't feel worthy of having them and so they fail her now. _

_Just think about it, Ronald, if everybody told you that you weren't a real wizard, not worthy of doing magic- how long would it take you to believe such lies?"..._

Ron sighed heavily and in thus revealing himself to her, revealing that he'd watched her for the whole time. As expected she flipped around and faced him with her deep brown eyes, furiously narrowed. If she _could_ have done magic right now he _might_ have been scared. Hermione stared at him for a long, very long minute, before she turned around and lifted her wand again, simply trying to ignore his presence, or the fact that he baffled her.

"Want something special, _Weasley_?" she asked with a teeth-grinding-like patience and he tried hard to suppress his usual smile he always got when he succeeded in breaking her usually sheer unbreakable concentration.

"Nothing." he said and she was already about to get back to her exercise when he spoke again. "Just, as I recall correctly, it was Wingardium LeviosaR.".

"Wingardium LeviOsa.", she corrected him, and by the tone of her voice he just knew that she'd shut her eyes, inwardly shaking her head over his stubborn attitude and ongoing slips. Ron smiled quietly, they both knew that he'd made this mistake on purpose, and they both knew why he'd done it. He looked up and actually caught a light smile shining on her lips, if only for a brief moment, but he had seen it, even if she tried to turn her back on him in order to hide it.

They both knew he had seen it.

"Let's try this together, will you?" he said lightly, already drawing his wand, but he didn't miss the way her face darkened again and she backed off. Even Ron lost his smile, but he certainly didn't give up. He'd never been good at giving up. No one would if he grew up with six other siblings.

"Wow. So this is finally the day that Hermione Granger shied away from a task, because she is...".

"Okay, I'm in.".

Ron looked down on his feet in order to keep this grin from claiming his lips. Sometimes she was far too easy to read. There would never be a task in the world she would decline to do. And she would never let herself get beaten by someone like him. She was a girl after all, she had her pride. Both lifted their wands and directed them at the small stones that lay scattered all around the Burrow. They spoke the spell almost in unison, but although his stone flew right up in the air, hers didn't leave the ground, as if it was glued to the cold it lay on.

"It's not working, it's pointless..." she whispered and automatically the hand that held her wand lowered again. Her look fell down to the earth and it literally broke his heart to see her like this.

But he couldn't do anything against, and it outraged him, his own helplessness was the one thing that outraged him most. He couldn't stand it, just as he couldn't stand it to see her this broken.

"Nonsense. Just...", he started again, before an idea shot through his head and he gave himself only one second to think about it. He blushed and this got her attention, because he hadn't done this in a long time. _Blushing_. It felt somehow normal and thus made her breath quicken in response.

Ron came to her and placed himself behind her. At first she stiffened in response to whatever he was up to again, she startled because of the warm, tingling feeling in her stomach she didn't want to feel. She knew that it wasn't right to feel something like that, not after everything that had happened. She knew she couldn't allow it to herself to feel such feelings, since it would mean that something like _normal_ was possible again after everything that had happened.

But how could everything go back to normal again? How could she ever feel happiness after what she'd seen, after what she'd done? How could she allow herself to be feel happiness when she knew that her parents would never be able to feel that again? How could she ever allow herself to do magic when she knew (_deep in her heart she knew it_) that she wasn't worthy of it?

Ron, however gave her no time to find answers to any of those questions, he simply leant closer to her and took her wrist within his fingers, his soft touch bringing her to lift her wand. She could hear him whisper something into her ear, she believed it to be something like _Together_, but she was much too distracted by his breath that hit her neck than to pay any attention to what he actually said. His touch on her wrist appeared to warm more than just her skin and so she spoke the spell for one last time.

And if she'd actually cared to look at the outcome of her spell and hadn't turned round to him, she would have seen that the stone slowly lifted up into the air, flying higher and higher until it finally disappeared into the clouds which broke up to reveal the sun.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry that I kept you waiting for so long, but here we are the 6th chapter. **

**In this one, Hermione and Ron apparate to Hermione's home to gather some stuff, but then they are ambushed by Death Eaters...**

**I wanted a bit more action again, after so much heart-breaking, hope you like it!**

**6. To return, in one way or another**

"You sure about this?".

Hermione closed her eyes, feeling the impatience nibbling at her benevolence, but she didn't give in, although he'd repeated this question like for the 20th time. She knew he was afraid, although he didn't want to let her see it. She knew he was concerned for her, although she didn't want to let him see how much it really touched her.

"I need this, Ronald." she said quietly while she turned around and she could see that he shivered lightly hearing her say his full name. She grasped his calloused hand into her little one and gave him a warm squeeze to let him know that she was ready. His hand immediately responded to her touch and their fingers simply intertwined as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Their eyes locked in the dim light of dawn, before they felt the familiar pull of apparation.

The first thing they saw was the fiery ball of sun who rose up behind the horizon and slowly saturated the yet empty street into a place of red and grey colours. Their fingers were still intertwined when they turned around and looked at the house which had been a home once.

"Like we've agreed." Ron said again, his eyes almost burning themselves into hers and she could do nothing but nod, before she let go of his hand and stormed right into the house. Ron hesitated for a moment, before he finally followed her. He hadn't been happy about her wish and he definitely didn't like the idea of getting to an unsafe house. But it was her home. It was her wish. He knew she needed this to get over it, to finish with it, to finish with what was past. Although he knew it was dangerous, her powers hadn't been completely restored and only him as a protection, he couldn't deny her this one wish. Whatever she would've asked, he would do it.

He felt the weight of darkness falling upon him as soon as they entered the house, he swallowed hard for he knew it was the darkness of death, of pain, of sudden destruction. Slowly he went through the house, trying to imagine the life that had been lived here only days ago. A life that was now irreversibly shattered.

He caught his breath when he at last passed the kitchen. That image of disruption which came with the puddles of muddy blood on the floor, rusty and old glowed that red liquid on the ground. Several black and greenish spots on the wall resembled lightnings that had struck here, sudden thunder storms of dark magic that had torn apart the lives of this innocent family. His eyes fluttered shut, he didn't want to imagine these things, he didn't want to see what had happened here.

He tried to force those image of destruction out of his mind's eye when the silence of that morning was disrupted by a sudden scream. Ron's eyes flung open and he acted immediately. He didn't have to ask who had just screamed. He drew his wand and ran out of the kitchen, storming upstairs where he had heard the scream coming from. When he reached the upper end of the stairs he just dodged in the right moment, before the curse could have hit him.

"STUPEFY!" he shouted and stunned the Death Eater who was aiming right at him. He knocked him off his feet and fought his way to Hermione's room where the scream had come from. Green and red lightning strikes were thrown at him, but he was quicker than them and disarmed them one by one. Yet he couldn't defeat them on his own and Hermione's magic hadn't been completely restored. She couldn't help him.

"INCENDIO!", the Death Eater that had stood in his way only moments ago was now flying through the window after he'd been hit by his explosion. Ron finally made it to her room and was shocked by the picture that was presented to him. Hermione stood behind her bed, pressed against the wall, she had drawn her wand and lifted the thin wooden stick up in the air. But she only stood there stiff and still, bound by the panic and by the memories of pain and terror that rampaged through her mind.

"Hermione!" he screamed but she didn't hear him, her eyes didn't even responded to his presence. She wasn't even aware that he was here. With a wild growl he parried theCurse of the Death Eater who had been about to attack her. He reached for her, grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look at him, but nothing in her eyes responded to him no matter how often and loud he screamed her name. When his eyes caught a movement behind him he turned around, ready to face death if that was necessary to keep her safe.

He lifted his wand and stormed towards his opponent, surprising him by using once again his fists instead of his magic. However, Ron heard the cracking noise of the his own, breaking nose when he got hit by an ugly curse. The sudden flash of pain blinded him for only one glimpse of a second, but it was enough for his enemies to defeat him. The Death Eater kicked his wand out of his hand and grabbed his neck, forcing him on his knees.

When the pain of his bleeding nose was suddenly numbed by another pain, the pain to recognise that they had lost. His eyes saw again and automatically focused on Hermione. She stood still behind the bed, stiff and unable to move, her wand was still in her hand, directed against the Death Eaters who slowly surrounded.

Their laughs made him feel sick. He knew they had lost.

There was no way out. Not for _both_ of them at least.

"Leave, 'Mione, leave!" he screamed, but she still she didn't move, paralysed by the pain and the death she could see in her enemy's eyes. Then, she finally locked eyes with him. The brown in her eyes, a few moments ago hardened and dulled with fear and pain, slowly melted into fiery glowing stars that struck him right into the depth of his very soul. He knew she wouldn't leave him. Never.

"AVADA KDEAVRA!" she said with a determined, lethal voice and the _Killing Curse_ knocked the Death Eater off of his feet who had held him in his grip. Ron picked up his wand and jumped on his feet, ready to face the Death Eaters and to die with her by his side. However, it didn't come to that when he heard her whisper something next to him and then a sudden wall of flames appeared between them and their opponents. Even Ron jumped back from the magical fire, afraid of the forces she had unleashed, but then he already felt her hand grasping his calloused fingers. Their fingers intertwined ever so naturally and then they felt the sudden pull of apparation, finally leaving her home behind.

They landed with a more or less hard bounce on the ground in the garden of the Burrow and Ron had never been so relieved to see his home again. However his look fell on her lowered head again while she clung to him just as if it was that night again where she had disaparated to his home for the very first time. His ears caught the shouts of his family which came running towards them, but he only left her side when his mother already pulled at him.

He got up and opened his mouth to explain their action to his family when he was silenced by his mother who simply slapped him. His head flung to the side and he sighed heavily while the pain in his cheek already started to burn. Again she gave him no time to explain but simply pulled him into her embrace. He should have been angry with her for the slap she'd given him, but when he felt the tears on her face he couldn't but respond to her embrace.

After all, she was only a mother caring for her son.

He was only freed out of his mother's embrace when she slowly turned to Hermione who stood still and silent a few feet away from them. She looked lost, as if she didn't belong to this image of a family. Molly Weasley lurched hesitantly forward, before she at last grabbed the young girl by her shoulders and pulled her into her arms. Shocked by this sudden wave of motherly affection, Hermione didn't know how to respond and stiffened automatically in her embrace. But then she could no longer turn away from the new family that was offered to her and finally she wrapped her arms around Molly Weasley to accept this new life.


	7. Chapter 7

**So, this probably the last chapter, except if you have any ideas how to continue? **

**Or if someone wants to continue himself, feel free to do so, just be nice and credit!**

**Thanks to all of you who have read so patiently and wrote so lovely reviews! You're the best!**

**7. Decision in the dark**

After everything that had happened, after such a day of chase, of pain, of possible death, all they had longed for was a warm bed to sleep in. However, as soon as the lights had been turned off and his mother had left his room, there was also something else that they longed for. His mother had just closed the door behind her when Hermione slowly got up and closed the distance between their beds. Without hesitance he lifted his blanket and she accepted his invitation gratefully as she crawled into bed with him. She snuggled herself against him, her body automatically searching for his body's warmth and he came closer to her, carefully wrapping his arms around her when he embraced her from behind.

Finally, after all the chaos she relaxed into his warmth and after a few minutes her breathing calmed and slowed down. Apparently she must have fallen asleep and now Ron also allowed himself to relax and to seek comfort in her warmth and in the peace of sleep. Several minutes passed them in silence until he heard it for the first time. He believed to hear her saying his name, but it had been such a quiet tone, so easy to miss.

"Ron?".

He had been right. She did say his name. Obviously she had not fallen asleep. She had been thinking about whatever. Would she ever find peace again?

"Hm..." he finally responded, pretending to be half asleep although he was perfectly awake. He was always awake and clear whatever she wanted. He didn't even know himself why he pretended to be numb and hardly awake. Perhaps it had something to do with her next words.

"I want to find them. I will kill them.".

Upon her words his eyes flung open and he stared down at her, but she had turned her back on him so he couldn't see her eyes, so he couldn't question the words she had just said. He didn't need to ask who she meant with _they_, he already knew. There was something lethal in the way she had said those words that emphasised brutally clear of whom she'd spoken.

She wanted revenge. She wanted justice.

Ron felt her stiffen within his arms and he knew she expected an answer from him, but he couldn't give her whatever she wanted to hear from him. Did she even need his approval? His permission? He knew she was perfectly capable of doing her own decisions, she didn't need him to help her making up her mind. Yet she had asked him. She had told him about her plans. Had she not done this on purpose?

All of the sudden he remembered the words of his mother and what she'd said about someone like them throwing the _Unforgivable Curses_.

_...They also destroy the one who casts them. They destroy something within that person..._

Twice now he had seen her casting the deadliest of all curses, and each time she'd done for him, in order to save him and herself. How did that change her? How would it change her to use those curses on purpose, not for protection or defence, but in order to hurt, to cause death?

Raising such questions made him feel sick to his stomach, for he didn't want to know the answer. He was afraid what that answer might look like. However, apart from his fears, he also felt some sort of understanding for her position. She had lost her parents. No, not _lost_. Saying that she lost them wouldn't express what kind of injustice had been forced upon her and her family. They had been _taking_ from her.

Wouldn't he want the same, if it had been his parents? Or George, or Fred, or even Ginny? They had taken her whole family, wouldn't he lust revenge, too, for justice if he was in her place?

Wouldn't he want to see those bastards dead if it had been _her_?

"Ron?" she whispered again and immediately he pulled her closer to his chest, showing her that he was still awake and that he'd heard her. He buried his face in her warm, brown hair, inhaling her scent, waiting for her to continue.

"I need you.".

Her whispered words lay in the air like a thin, bright veil that fell upon them, covering them in the warmth of each other and the harmony of their relationship, for they complemented each other, in every way.

He didn't know if she meant his help or if she meant him in general. But he didn't care.

She hadn't had to ask for his help anyway. She already had it. _Like his heart_.


End file.
